


Spring, Home

by BranwellBronte



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming Out, Hand Job, Identity, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Talking, long talks, queer identity, sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BranwellBronte/pseuds/BranwellBronte
Summary: Jon and Gendry go to Winterfell after Season 8 and start their new life by coming out to Jon's siblings and spending a heart-revealing, life-affirming spring day out in the fields.





	Spring, Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TerribleAndRed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerribleAndRed/gifts).



> I'm asking you to go with me on a few things here...this takes place after Season 8 but I've made no decisions about what happened in Season 8, except that Jon is King in the North. So there won't be any references to whatever climactic events we're anticipating for S8. You can fill in the gap if you want to, or, like me, not give it a thought as long as my faves are alive. A character who died in the show is alive here. Suspend disbelief as needed...

            “That used to be my chair.”

            “Then I’m going to sit in it.”

            Gendry laid back languidly in the seat at the great hall’s table. Then he spun to one side and crossed his legs over the chair arm. “Don’t suppose you ever sat like this?”

            Jon snorted. “No. I don’t think that would have pleased my father very much.”

            “Shame.” Gendry shook his dangling feet. “No one expects you to become anything when you’re a bastard but somehow there are still so many rules.”

            Jon lowered his eyes and smiled ruefully, then looked back up at Gendry from under his eyelashes. Gendry tipped his chin up. “Do that again.”

            Jon raised his head. “What?”  
            “No.” Gendry gestured at his face. “Do what you did just now. Put your head back down and look up at me like that again. You’re beautiful when you do that.”

            Jon felt a blush creep across his cheeks. Even after all this time, Gendry’s frankness disarmed him. But the blush only felt like warmth, as if Gendry had put his fingers to Jon’s cheeks.

            Jon repeated the gesture of looking up from under his eyelashes. Gendry kept his gaze on Jon’s face and his eyes held an ache of longing in them. He held out a hand to Jon. “Come here,” he said softly.

            Jon took his hand and threw his head back with a grin as Gendry sat smoothly forward in the chair again and pulled Jon onto his lap. Gendry cradled Jon to his chest and pressed a kiss to Jon’s temple. “How do you feel?”

            Jon exhaled and felt the scars on his heart seep away their pain as they always did when he was in Gendry’s arms. He leaned his head into the crook of Gendry’s neck. He breathed in and out again. He was in love.

            “I feel safe,” he whispered.

***

            He was in love. He’d known it when all he wanted was to be in Gendry’s presence, not just to be in bed with him. He lost his breath sitting next to Gendry at the breakfast table, watching him casually fork food into his mouth. He lost his breath when Gendry walked by someone else and cracked a joke at them. He lost his breath when Gendry looked out at the sun, a hand shading his eyes, watching calmly, standing still. Doing nothing. Doing everything.

            The last night before they reached Winterfell, he’d meant to say it at the inn after his breathing evened out when he and Gendry had pulled apart in the rumpled sheets and laid side by side on their backs. It was hardly a breath’s time though before Gendry had gathered Jon back to him. As Jon’s heart had beat the sweet, calming pulse of the afterglow, he’d collected the words and leaned up to Gendry’s face to say them. He’d opened his mouth slightly and then closed it and had to fight the laughter threatening to heave in his chest.

            Gendry was already asleep. Jon had laid his cheek on Gendry’s warm chest, not caring about the sweat that stuck to his face. He’d try again tomorrow, maybe. No, not maybe. _Definitely_ tomorrow.

It did happen the next day, at an unplanned moment. After he finished breakfast, Gendry had pointed with an elbow to the window. “Want to go outside for a minute. Get a look at all that green grass.”

            “There will be far more grass around Winterfell, you know.”

            “Yeah but it’s already green here, isn’t it? I’ve hardly seen nice green grass in my life. I’m from Flea Bottom.”

            “I’m aware.”

            “Then hurry up eating and let’s go look. I mean it. Hurry.” Gendry rapped his knuckles on the table while Jon fought back another laugh as he’d spooned the last of his porridge.

They walked past the stable where the grooms were preparing their horse for the final leg of the journey. Jon, as King in the North, had of course been offered a carriage, but had refused it. “I don’t need it. Someone else needs it more than me. A family from around here. Parents with children, maybe. Trying to get back to their home. We’ll take a horse.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sansa and I need to work hard on that. Rebuilding all the North, I mean,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the landscape. Gendry watched him as they stepped further down the dirt path between the fields on either side. “It won’t be quick work. I wish to the gods that it would be, but I’ll be receiving people for hours every day, asking them what they need, leaving Winterfell and going into the towns myself to look into things. And I’m not complaining. It needs to be done. I want it to be done.”

            Gendry took Jon’s hand, fingers closing softly around it. He walked them off the path and into the grass, still dewy in the spring morning. He gently pulled Jon close to him, raised Jon’s hand to his lips, and kissed his fingers. “My King,” he whispered.

            “I love you,” said Jon.

             Gendry’s eyebrows raised as he kept Jon’s hand to his mouth, but Jon knew him well enough to know the difference between his mocking eyebrow raises and his surprised ones. Gendry slowly lowered Jon’s hand along with his own, licking his top lip and biting his bottom.

            This was a new gesture. Jon’s heart almost rattled in his chest from fear that he’d said the wrong thing, the too intense thing, the life changing thing that didn’t change anything for the good. He was afraid tears would blur his eyes when Gendry put his hand on the back of Jon’s neck and leaned their foreheads together. “No one’s ever said that to me. Not once in my life. Never. I’ve been waiting so long.”

            Jon grasped Gendry’s back. He tried to say _Did you want to hear it from me?_ All he managed, voice slightly cracked, was, “Me?”

            Gendry had run the backs of both his hands down Jon’s cheeks. “You, yes. Always you. I love you, Jon. I should have said it to you sooner.”

            Jon shook his head and his mind had wobbled and he almost choked in relief. “No. I should have said it first.”

            “Don’t argue with me. You’ll lose every time.” Gendry flipped his hands over and placed his palms on Jon’s cheeks. Jon had no idea if anyone was watching. They weren’t that far from the stable. Jon didn’t know how near to judgment he was by others. He suspected very close. It didn’t matter anymore when Gendry found his lips with his own. Jon’s “King in the North” title was meaningless in Gendry’s arms. Two human souls were all he felt.

***

            Sansa raced so quickly across the courtyard that her skirts bounced up past her shins. She launched herself into Jon’s open arms and he spun her around once before letting her down, both of them grinning wide and laughing breathlessly. She put a hand over her mouth, closed her eyes, then opened them, joy glowing from them. She laid both hands on his shoulders. “Finally!”

            Jon rolled his eyes at her. “I sent you a raven two days ago.”

            “You think I care about some _raven_ when I could see you instead? Here. Again.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and he softly ran a hand up and down her back, then kissed her cheek. When he moved away, he looked to Gendry, standing two feet away, back slightly rigid. Jon smiled and tilted his head toward Sansa, mouthing _Come on_. Gendry cleared his throat and made a short bow to Sansa, then took her hand and kissed it.

“My Lady. It’s my pleasure.”

“Not at all. Mine. And it’s ‘ _Sansa_.’ We’re family now. I know all about you.” She took one of his hands in both of hers. “And I’m _happy_ because _he’s_ happy.” She looked to Jon and he bowed his head, smiling at his feet but feeling love and gratitude for his sister sweet in his heart.

“All about me,” Gendry said, his voice mild but with an undertone of genuine shock, as Sansa let his hand go. “By the Seven.” He angled his chin toward Jon. “Do I want to know what you’ve been saying about me?”

Jon looked at him evenly. “That you snore and I have bags under my eyes from lying awake all night.”

Gendry’s eyes widened. Jon widened his eyes back. Gendry huffed a laugh and crinkled his nose at him.

Jon placed a hand on his arm. “I told her that I’d met someone I’d become very close to. I didn’t have to say anything more than that. She knew right away what I meant. She has the sharpest mind of all of us.”

Sansa folded her hands and gave Gendry a sweet but sly smile. “You know, he only says that because he knows he’s right. Now. Come see the others. They want to meet you. Oh, and see their brother too, I suppose?” Jon reached to push her but she ducked away from him, their smiles matching.

Gendry tilted his head back and looked up at the towers and balconies. “I like it here already. It’s very. I don’t know. What’s a good word?” He frowned, then nodded. “Enchanting.”

Jon and Sansa passed an amused glance between them. Having grown up here, the familiarity overwhelmed any idea of enchantment. But after being gone so long, Jon thought he could see through Gendry’s eyes. Despite some darkness that remained on the walls from burning and a few crumbled spots that servants still attempted repairs at, Winterfell still had a forcefulness of character, a personality of bravery and determination for survival. It had been battered throughout the years and yet it only looked taller when Jon tilted his head up with Gendry’s.

“I’m sorry. Lollygagging.” Gendry took the hand Sansa offered him not only with gentleness, but with a kind of tenderness that moved Jon. Gendry didn’t like to admit it, but he was shy around women, even those younger than himself. It had taken him multiple tries over multiple days to tell Jon the complete story of what had happened to him at his first visit to Dragonstone. He said he still had nightmares about the leeches, the feeling of powerlessness. The idea of Gendry, with his confident and blasé attitudes, being skittish around any woman who showed him tenderness frustrated Jon with sorrow. He listened to Sansa talk softly but brightly to him as she led him at an even pace out of the courtyard and into the Godswood. There was still a slight stiffness in his shoulders, but as Jon trailed a pace behind them, he saw Gendry look at Sansa and smile before looking ahead again. Hope bloomed a small bud in his heart that Gendry would begin to heal.

The reflection of the auburn Weirwood leaves shimmered on the surface of the pond. Jon followed the reflection up to the tree, where the leaves on the thick white branches tossed gently in the wind. Jon’s breath hitched and he sailed past Gendry and Sansa and was at the foot of Bran’s chair in seconds. He pulled Bran into his arms and held him fast against himself.

“Jon.” Bran gently held his hands against Jon’s back until Jon pulled away and touched the side of Bran’s face.

“I’m home,” Jon said, his voice wobbling and his heart constricting with relief at seeing Bran, at seeing him alive. He was grown up now, a young man, his eyes open and his face serene. Not the child with usually wide eyes that were closed perhaps forever the last time Jon had been at his side, leaning over the bed and praying to all gods old and new that death was not ready to receive his brother yet. Jon saw the corners of Bran’s mouth turn up ever so slightly as Jon lost his battle with tears and one slipped down his face.

“I knew you’d come back, Jon. It was a feeling I always had. I didn’t need to travel to any moment in time to know that you were still alive and that I’d see you again. I felt it in a way that has nothing to do with my powers.”

Jon gripped Bran’s shoulders and smiled as another tear tracked down and dropped off his chin. “I prayed for you every day.”

“I know. And not because I saw you do it.”

“You heard me in here.” Jon touched his chest.

“Yes.” Bran touched his own chest. “In there. But I did go back to the Wall, though, and I listened to you praying at night. I won’t keep that from you.”

Jon choked a laugh. “I’m not upset.”

He had, in fact, been upset at Sansa’s first raven after Bran’s arrival back at Winterfell. Sansa said that Bran had stayed frozen in her arms when she’d first hugged him, had said her name in a disconcerting voice free of feeling. _He won’t explain what a three eyed raven is, Jon. We all ask him but he won’t tell us, he only says that’s what he is now, and I’m so frustrated I could cry but I can’t do that in front of him, not when he looks at me with his eyes so empty. He had seen terrible things that had happened to me and I almost broke down, I never knew he could talk that way to anyone, let alone me, his sister. Jon, what do I do?_ In the end she’d realized what to do without Jon’s help. She’d written to Meera Reed and asked her to return, to help Bran balance his magic with his humanity.

Meera now rose from her spot by the pond, awkwardly brushing her palms on her pants. “Your Grace,” she said, more forcefully than she probably meant to. She bowed her head. Jon stood up and held out a hand to her.

“Just ‘Jon.’ It’s my greatest pleasure to finally meet the young woman who took such great care of my brother. Such great care?” He turned back to Bran as Meera tentatively took Jon’s hand.

Bran nodded once. “Faultless care.”

Jon braced Meera’s shoulder. “All my gratitude will never be enough.”

Meera blinked rapidly. “It was all I could do, your gra- Jon. Sorry.” When Jon looked closely, he could still see sorrow engraved in her eyes, in her posture. Sansa had told him that Meera had lost her brother on her journey with Bran. He felt tears creep up behind his eyes again. He’d say a special prayer later for both Jojen and Robb. He fumbled in his mind to say something about empathizing with Meera for the loss of a beloved brother, but she only put her own hand on his shoulder and they stood for a moment in silence, communicating their bond without words.

Sansa gently stepped near them. Jon hadn’t realized that Gendry was hanging far back from the tree, the branches not even covering his head. Jon beckoned him and Gendry held his arms behind his back, bowing his head as he walked within speaking distance of Bran and Meera. Just as he was opening his mouth, Bran nodded his chin at him and Gendry halted abruptly, scraping a fallen leaf with his boot.

            Bran smiled at Gendry, looking him in the eyes. “I was only going to say, let’s all dispense with formalities, why don’t we? As we are all family, there is no need to call me ‘my Lord.’ It’s good to finally meet you in person, Gendry.”

            Gendry took the hand Bran offered him and shook it, but Jon could see in the set of his jaw that Bran had unnerved him. “Where did you see Gendry, Bran? On the road?”

            “King’s Landing actually,” Bran said as Gendry let go and then clasped hands with Meera. “I was searching for Father and I found him at a forge. You were there, Gendry. You were telling him a helmet you’d made wasn’t for sale.”

            Gendry made a surprised but pleased laugh. “Oh. That old thing. Yeah, that was my great joy in life. Until this one came along.” He angled his chin at Jon and met his eyes. Gendry’s had a quietly happy glow in them which rapidly dimmed as he saw the shock in Jon’s. “I-” he started, looking between Jon and Bran, who only gazed back at him, expression unchanged.

But now Bran _knew._

            Dread was beginning to set into Gendry’s eyes as he locked them with Jon’s. Jon swallowed against his increasingly fast breaths and made a gesture of calm with his hand. But the jab of fear in his heart had put his whole bloodstream off balance. He’d taken Gendry’s shyness for granted the past few minutes. His casual frankness about the nature of his relationship with Jon left Jon without words now.

            He’d realized before now that he’d need to tell them, of course. Long before the horseback ride home, long before Sansa had discerned their relationship, he knew this day would come. It had been so long ago, but now it felt too soon. He tried for a smile at Gendry but it must have been weak because Gendry made an abrupt movement away from the party. “I…I think I overstepped,” Gendry said, his voice without a waver but very, very quiet. “I’ll go back to the castle and…”

            “No.” Despite his fear, the word was out of Jon’s mouth with a force and determination, a natural reflex, a desperation to not cause Gendry any pain. It gave him a kind of bravery, still shot through with nerves, but strong enough for his voice to rise from his throat. “No. Don’t go. I want to say something. I know you know, Bran. I see that. But you should hear it from me, too.” He straightened and held his hand, palm up, to Gendry. Gendry hesitated for a moment before he placed his fingers in Jon’s palm. Jon kissed the back of them, letting his lips linger on Gendry’s skin. He realized he was mirroring Gendry’s gesture from earlier in the day. That only made him kiss longer, eyes closed, stillness softly descending inside his bloodstream.

            He took his lips away from Gendry’s hand but still held it close. “I love him. I’ve loved him a long time. I’m proud to bring him here, to our home. It’s his home now too. I only struggled because…it’s like pulling my heart out of my chest and watching while everyone looks at it. I’m not used to that. But I want you all to know that I love him. It’s freeing, the more I say it.” He squeezed Gendry’s hand and let it go. “So now you know.”

            A beautiful spark of warmth kindled in Bran’s eyes and Jon almost sunk to the ground. “That took a lot of courage, Jon. You were always courageous but this is more important than swinging a sword well. Welcome to the family, Gendry.”

            “Thank you.” Gendry’s shoulders had relaxed. “Oh, and I love him too. Also for a long time. Just so that’s clear.”

            Sansa and Meera chuckled and Bran nodded once. “Two brave men. I know you’ll be happy here. I’ll do all I can to make sure of that.” He glanced at Meera, who nodded firmly at him but with a fondness in her eyes.

            “Now, that’s settled.” Bran tilted his head to the side, away from the Godswood. “I think there are others who’d like to know you’re here.”

            Jon’s smile was ear to ear before he knew it. “Where are they?”

            “I’ll show you.” Sansa put a hand on both Jon’s and Gendry’s backs. “All you have to do is follow the sound of the clanging…”

            Gendry shook hands with Bran and Meera once more and then they were following the wind waving the grass blades side to side, then climbing a small hill. Gendry lagged and let Sansa trail ahead a few paces, taking Jon by the elbow and turning him slightly. “Just now. Jon. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my place.”

            Jon leaned into his ear. “I’m want to make it so that you never question that is _is_ your place, and that I won’t be nervous. It’s my job, and I’m going to do it, and I want to do it. And don’t argue. You’ll lose this time.”

            Gendry gripped Jon’s elbow, probably harder than he realized, but much of the heavy anxiety was gone from his eyes. “You get no argument. But just this one time.” He let go of Jon’s arm but leaned into him as they followed Sansa.

            The clanging was indeed unmistakable. So was the voice calling, “Keep your shoulder down! It’s a dead giveaway!”

            Sansa stopped abruptly before they crested the hill. “Jon. She’s changed. I wrote to you about it, but-”

            Jon nodded but swallowed, a different kind of nerves kindling. _She brought back a bag. I almost threw up, Jon, what was in it. I remember her sword lessons at the Red Keep, her “dancing lessons,” but she_ is _a sword now. Getting her to smile is a battle I lose most of the time. Don’t get me wrong – she’s helped me. We took out an enemy together, a vile one, he never saw it coming, I couldn’t have done it if we hadn’t put our heads together. But there’s a blockade around her, Jon. I don’t know how much the terrible people in her life surrounded her with it and how much of it she built herself. I’ve torn down small pieces. I asked her if she wanted to send a message to you with my raven but she stood very still and didn’t say anything. I don’t know if the idea of talking to you is making her too emotional, too unfamiliar. She copes with emotions differently these days. But she may be warmer with you when she sees you because you always had that special bond, but just be careful, Jon…_

Jon sent up a small prayer and put his chin steady. “No matter what she says, she can’t clang away my love for her.”

            Gendry slowed his steps. “Wait…we’re about to see who I think we’re seeing, aren’t we.” He took off quickly up the hill, Jon and Sansa huffing slightly as they tried to catch up with him.

            “Better. But not good enough yet. Don’t watch my eyes like that. I’ll fool you and you’ll end up flat on your-”

            “ARRY!” Gendry shouted it at the top of his lungs and Jon heard the clanging stop just as he climbed the last step of the rise and he saw his sister. She was in a fighting stance, feet spread evenly apart, blade up, no wisps of hair in her face. Her eyes weren’t narrowed but they were completely focused on the direction of the voice she’d heard. Jon didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he let it out raggedly when Arya lowered her blade an inch, then two, then dropped her hand to her side. She looked between him and Gendry without meeting either of their eyes.

            Gendry closed the distance between them in mere strides. “Arry,” he said, fondness running high in his voice. “Remember me?”

            “You dolt,” she said immediately. “Of course I do. I don’t forget anything.”

            “So that long strange journey we were on, you’re remembering it right now, yeah?

            “Obviously. You didn’t know I was a lady and so you pissed in front of me.”

            Gendry snorted and threw his hands up. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

            “You’ll never be as sorry as I was when I’d look over and there you were.”

            Jon couldn’t see Gendry’s face but he’d dropped his hands. “What about now? You’re not sorry to see me now, are you?”

            Arya kept her voice even but Jon saw a tension in her face. She was struggling. “It’s not the worst day of my life. You have important business here? You can take it up with my sister. I’m busy.”

            “She’s the one who brought me to you. And yeah, I’ve got important business. Lots of business, because I’m here and I’m never leaving.”

            Arya finally flicked her eyes to Jon and he held them, heart thumping at being almost face to face with her. _Come here already._ He tried to send the thought directly into her mind. They’d played that game sometimes as children, sitting cross-legged in front of each other, staring intently into one another’s eyes until, most of the time, they burst out laughing. But he tried this time anyway. He could see by how quickly she was blinking that her composure was failing.

“Gendry. Out of my way.”  She gestured with her blade for him to move and then walked in a straight line toward Jon. She faltered a little when she was only two steps away, her feet shuffling more than walking. She tried for one more even gaze at him. She was so tall now, far too tall to jump into his arms like when he’d last seen her, her feet dangling in the air. She wasn’t making this easy, but Jon realized he probably wasn’t either, so he stepped the last pace between them. She was still holding her sword by her side and he gestured at it and held out his hand. Her even gaze wobbled as she silently passed him Needle.

“It’s held up well, I see,” he said softly, turning his whole gaze toward it so that she could clear her face if she wanted. He twirled it by the hilt. “I picked a good smith. He didn’t let me dow-”

“Down. Put it down.” Her voice was only slightly louder than his. He glanced at her but her eyes were fixed on the sword. He nodded and moved to pass it back to her but she grabbed the hilt and dropped it. The sword made a small _thump_ on the grass as she walked right into him.

Jon hadn’t gone a night without including her in his prayers along with Bran and his other siblings. Word of her had been nonexistent for so many years but for all the strength he’d painstakingly cultivated in other areas of his life, he’d never had it in him to admit the increasing unlikeliness that she’d be found. He had breathed only pain at times in his life and he couldn’t bear the weight of more. So he’d set his mind on the only course he trusted to keep him sane. The one that told him she was alive, had Needle for protection, and was on her way home. And now here she was and suddenly her head was against his chest.

Jon made a sobbing noise as he wrapped his arms around her back. She put her hands up near his elbows, not quite holding them, but touching them all the same. Jon gently turned his face into hers and kissed her cheek. She finally fell apart and he had to hold fast to her as she slumped to the ground, making a gasping, hiccupping sound as she flung her hands around his back and pushed her face against his heart. She didn’t cry but her breath heaved against his chest and he knew his own tears were wetting her hair. They held each other in silence broken only by her uneven breathing.

“You’re back,” she said, voice small and muffled into his cloak.

“I’m not leaving,” he whispered, thumbing a tear from his eye before it could land on her. 

“You’re here to stay?”

“You’d have to beat me with Needle to drive me away.”

She half laughed, still making a strangling crying sound and still keeping her face pressed against him. When she broke away, her eyes were dry but the careful distance they’d had only a minute before had vanished completely. He sensed she was still reaching for words but he put his hands on her shoulders and shook his head. _You don’t have to say anything._

She nodded back to him and pushed on his arms to raise herself upright again. She cleared her throat and pointed at Needle on the carpet of grass. “I want it back now,” she said, sniffing a little.

He gave her a mockingly annoyed look as he picked it up and gave it back to her. She looked at him one more time, mouth partly open as if words perched just slightly behind them. She closed it but not before he saw her form his name in silence. He formed hers back and relief almost had him on his knees.

Arya held his gaze another moment, then slowly turned and headed back to where she’d stood near Gendry. Gendry was holding one arm out to someone and shaking their hand. Jon peered around him and another face peered back.

Jon took a step forward and smiled. “Do you remember me?”  
            Rickon dropped his sword and paced quickly to Jon with open arms. “Everyone thinks that because I’m the ‘baby,’ that I don’t remember anything,” he grumbled as Jon hugged him so hard that he swayed side to side. “And please – no ‘you’re so tall now.’ I hate that too.”

Jon stared at him for a moment before Rickon grinned. “I’m only joking, you know. You can say I’m tall. It’s true, anyway.”

Rickon had followed his other siblings around as a child, never seeming to know where he was going. He’d pop into all their rooms unannounced, sat and watched ardently as the boys shot arrows into a target, had gotten under everyone’s feet in the great hall. Ned had played with him and insisted the others do the same, but Rickon had still been so young when Jon had left for the Wall that seeing him now was like meeting a different person with the same face. _You’d be proud of him, though,_ Sansa had written. _You’re going to love getting to know him. He’s so funny, we’ll even catch Arya smiling at him sometimes. And he’s so sweet, Jon. He remembers Father even though not as well as the rest of us. But that doesn’t keep him from laying flowers in the crypt every week._

 “I’ve been hearing a lot about you. But it’s not the same as seeing you again.”

“I know. Sansa said you’d sit down with me, just me, and tell me things. I’m holding you to that.”

“I’m a man of my word.” Jon put a hand on his heart. Rickon smiled, looked at the ground, licked his lips, and then reached for Jon again. Jon put a hand on the back of his head. “We’ll make up for the time. All of it.”

Rickon nodded and blinked as he quickly turned away, just barely holding the tear in. Jon’s heart wrenched. His youngest sibling, so little talked about by anyone, even in the North, had suffered pain and loss just like the rest of them. Jon knew he couldn’t make all of it up to him, but he’d use all his will to halt any new tears of sorrow.

“I don’t know, Arry. You don’t think it’s a bit late in life for me to learn? OW! Hey!” Gendry recoiled as Arya flipped Needle in the air, grabbed the hilt, and whacked him on the shoulder with it again. “Hey! What was that for?”

“For suggesting you’re too old to learn. False. See? I guess I’m teaching you. Clearly someone needs to.”

“I get the message!” Gendry waved a hand at her as she jabbed the hilt in his direction again. “Jon, your sister is being mean to me. Me, her friend who hasn’t seen her in years! What a welcome.”

Jon shook with silent laughter. “She loves you, clearly.”

“Ugh!” Arya scrunched up her face and picked up Rickon’s sword, tossing it back to him. Rickon had barely caught it as Arya suddenly held still and looked closely at Jon, then at Gendry, then again, then once more. She raised her eyebrows, the gesture seeming natural, but the tiniest wink of shock appeared in her eyes before she cleared them again. “Oh. I get it now,” she said, a softer tone in her voice. “You two are the real ones who love each other.”

Gendry made a noise in his throat and Jon stared at her, frozen in his boots. She’d seen them for all of five minutes. “How-”

“It’s really obvious.” She twirled Needle absently. The shocked had disappeared completely and she looked at Jon with clear eyes. “Now that I see the two of you together, the whole air has changed. It’s stifling, really. All that tenderness.” She looked down briefly but didn’t turn away. When she looked up again, she gave Jon an unmistakably fond look, mouth corners turned up just enough to be a smile. Then she let the smile form fully, her teeth showing, and Jon felt like soaring to the sky, overwhelmed by her show of compassion. He still didn’t understand how she knew, but he still knew her well enough to tell when she was pleased. He guessed she even knew how much it meant to him, with whatever intuitive knowledge she possessed. Maybe she had changed over the years. But maybe she was still the same in one important way. She was still his little sister who’d always thrown her arms around him and tugged his sleeve when she saw he was happy.

            Instead of communing by thought with her, though, he said, “You’re only going to make me cry again.”

            Her own smile twitched slightly with emotion and she pulled her mouth to one side before speaking. “No, don’t do that. It rains a lot now, it being spring. The grass doesn’t need any more water.”

            Jon grinned through a sob he couldn’t suppress. He swiped a hand at his face and looked at Gendry, who was still staring wide-eyed at Arya, mouth still open, eyes blinking repeatedly in confusion. Arya nodded her chin at Gendry. “Congratulations,” she said, and there was no sarcastic edge in her voice. “You picked a good one.”

            “I don’t get it,” Rickon said.

            They all turned to him. He glanced between them all and frowned. “What?” he asked with annoyance. “Why are you all looking at _me_?”

            Jon softly put a hand on his arm. “What don’t you get, Rickon?”

            Rickon squinted between Jon and Gendry. “She said you loved each other. But it feels like it’s a big deal. I don’t get it. I love Gendry already but no one’s looking at me.”

            “Oh gods,” Gendry said, covering his eyes with one hand and heaving one chest-shaking laugh before gesturing at Jon. “Do you want to tell him? You really should. I already did my part with Bran.”

            Jon closed his own eyes, reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose before he caught himself and only smiled at the sky.

            “ _What?_ ” Rickon batted Jon’s arm. “Someone tell me already!”

            “I’m sorry, Rickon,” Jon said. He gently rubbed a hand up and down Rickon’s arm. “It’s been quite a day already. But it’s like this. You know how Father and your mother loved each other, right?”

            “Well of course.”

            Jon looked in his eyes and smiled, then nodded toward Gendry. “That’s how Gendry and I love each other.”

            Rickon’s expression didn’t change, which almost made Jon laugh again, but he held it in. Rickon moved his eyes to one side, then the other, then to Gendry, then to Sansa, who smiled and nodded, then back to Jon. “I…oh. You can do that? Two men?”

            “Or two women,” Sansa suggested.

            Jon squeezed Rickon’s arm. “She’s right. Two women or two men. Two people of any kind. They can all be in love.”

            Rickon bit the inside of his cheek. “Hmm.” He looked back at Gendry. “Oh, that’s why you’re never leaving? Because then you’d be leaving Jon.”

            Gendry bowed his head. “That’s the truth right there.” He smiled. “So we’ll be brothers too. You’re as stuck with me as everyone else.”

            “Uh huh. If you’re staying here, you _have_ to be my brother. It wouldn’t be much fun otherwise.” Rickon nodded. “Alright. Always learning lessons, I guess. Well, a lesson that doesn’t have to do with _swords_ , anyway.” He narrowed his eyes at Arya, who rolled hers and pointed at the ground in front of her.

            “Back here. Now. We haven’t even gotten started.”

            Jon chuckled and squeezed Rickon’s arm once again. Rickon gave him an exaggeratedly pained look before meandering back to Arya. There was an unmistakable joy in the set of Arya’s face before she turned and adopted her fighting stance and Rickon was parrying her attacks again.

            “Lovebirds,” Sansa said, stepping forward. “Come back to the castle with me. I have something to show you.”

            They laughed as they took big steps down the hill, almost tripping and sliding in the wet grass. Jon immediately crouched down in the courtyard as Ghost trotted elegantly to him. He’d run ahead of Jon and Gendry when they’d been at the inn. Jon guessed it was because being shut up at the Wall, and then Dragonstone, had stifled an animal born to exercise its legs. Ghost closed his eyes as Jon stroked his head. To Jon’s surprise, Ghost had been more amenable to being touched by Gendry than Gendry had been keen to touch him. “He won’t hurt you,” Jon had said as Gendry had first watched the direwolf carefully and Ghost placidly returned his gaze, both animal and human making the stillness heavy in the air. “He’ll go to you if I tell him to. Are you ready?”

            “No.”

            “Gendry.”

            “Alright.” Gendry had awkwardly gotten to his knees and put his hands on his thighs. Then he’d raised one arm, palm upward.

            “Go to Gendry, Ghost.” And Ghost had pushed himself to his legs and walked to Gendry’s hand, nosing it softly. Gendry had given a small laugh as he gently patted the top of Ghost’s head. Ghost had waited patiently for Gendry to finish before returning to where he’d been sleeping. Gendry had laughed harder at that. “Well, he’s an animal, I guess. We all sleep.”

            Gendry now crouched next to Jon and held his hand out again, Ghost standing calmly as they both touched him gently. It was only when Sansa sighed loudly that they looked back at her.

            “I was only wondering. Do either of you notice anything different about Winterfell in this particular moment?”

            Jon hoisted himself up. He squinted as he turned in a circle, the doorways and archways spinning slowly around in his view. “It’s very quiet.”

            “That’s because no one’s here.” Gendry looked up from Ghost and smiled. Jon stared at him, then at Sansa. Gendry was right. The groom who’d taken their horse was gone. There was no clang from the smithy, no sound of footsteps on the walkways.

            “No one’s here,” Jon echoed. He frowned. “Sansa? Where-”

            “In town.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Everyone’s in town for the day. And for most of the next day too. Yes, _all_ of the servants. And that’s where the rest of us are headed, as soon as I collect them all. Our bags have been packed for hours.”

            “You’re leaving?” He gently pushed her off and took her by the shoulders. “Sansa, you can’t possibly-”

            “And why not? I’m the Lady of this place. If I want to give you two a present, you can’t very well refuse it. That wouldn’t be proper behavior toward a lady. Or your _sister_.”

            “A present? Sansa-”

            “Oh gods, his brains need a bit of a knocking right now, don’t they?” Gendry clasped the back of Jon’s head. “You can’t see what she’s doing?”

            “She said something about a present, but I-”

            “A very good knocking.” He gently shook Jon’s head. “We have the place to ourselves. She’s being very, very good to us. It won’t go under-appreciated,” he said earnestly to Sansa, who batted a hand at him.

            “Oh gods,” Jon echoed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and looked hard at Sansa, even as a flutter of excitement briefly kindled in his stomach. “Sansa. What have you done?”

            “Welcome home.” She stood up on her toes and kissed Jon’s cheek. “There’s food on the table inside. You’ll have to put breakfast together yourselves tomorrow, though. Oh, and feed the horses. But you’ll have a nice time otherwise, won’t you?”

            “Sansa.” Jon pushed his fingers into his forehead. But he huffed a happy laugh and watched with warmth in his chest as Sansa pulled Gendry into a hug and Gendry embraced her back.

            “I’ll not take up any more of your time. Go inside already. I’ll see you tomorrow. You’ll be getting a raven about an hour before we come back. So you can be prepared.” She turned her head and gave them a coy look.

            “ _Sansa_.”

            “Goodbye!” She swirled her skirts around her with mischief and then she was out the archway again.

            Gendry touched Jon’s cheek. “Are you ready?”

***

            “It’s very much the same, but of course different, because it had to be.”

            “Different in a bad way?”

            “No. Well, I’m not happy it was torn apart when I came back the first time. It meant more work for the servants to help me fix it. The bed, I mean.” Jon gestured at the frame of the bed against the wall. “All of that’s new. The wood, the mattress, blankets, everything. The mattress and blankets would have had to be changed anyway, but I was more sentimental about the actual bed than I realized. Robb and I would crawl under it during hide-and-seek. Not a very clever hiding spot, is it?” He smiled at the memory of their hands pushing into the dust, legs hurriedly kicking as they slid under. Then he sighed in frustration. “The frame was smashed to bits, though. Splinters everywhere. It really wasn’t safe to be in here. We don’t know how it happened. Sansa thinks it was probably Bolton men. She volunteered that information, by the way. I’d never have asked her that myself.”

            “I know.”

            “I asked Theon if he thought the Ironborn could have done it and he said it was possible but that he hoped not. I don’t think it was them. They weren’t here very long and from what Theon said, they stayed on the lower floor, in some of the bigger rooms. None of us have big rooms, by the way. Father thought it would keep us humble to stay in smaller rooms. It had nothing to do with me being a bastard. My dresser was ruined as well.” Jon gestured to the space where a different one sat. “That’s also new. The old one had all the drawers pulled out and in the middle of the floor. They were all cracked. I thought about it and my guess is that someone was hoping to find something they thought was hidden. Money, maybe. Jewels. Something valuable. I don’t know.”

            “You still sleep here, though.”

            “Yes. It’s funny, maybe. Gods know the servants were horrified when I told them the _King in the North_ was going to sleep in his _small childhood room_. I haven’t touched Father’s room, except to replace the bed and the furniture. The originals were all in good shape but it was clear someone had used the room. Many people over the years, actually. It left a bad feeling with me. So I had replicas of everything made. But it still didn’t feel right that I sleep in there. It’s Father’s room. Not mine. So I sleep here, because it’s my room.”

            Gendry touched his fingers to the blanket. “Is it because your memories are all good?”

            Jon sat on the edge of the bed, then moved further back and sank slightly into the soft blanket. He held his hand out to Gendry, who took it carefully before Jon yanked him forward. They laughed softly as Jon pulled Gendry to sit beside him. He kept Gendry’s hand in his own as he said, “That’s exactly it. Despite all the damage, this was _my_ room and I wanted it back. I wanted to stay in the room all my siblings played in with me. The room I read all my books in, with a little candle when I should have been sleeping. Robb and I jumped on the bed and tried not to laugh so that we’d get away with it. Bran would crawl in here when he was a baby. I would take him out of his nurse’s arms and put him on the floor with me and we’d make noises at each other. I wasn’t very close to Sansa then, but when she was old enough, she’d knock on the door to say good morning every day. She said it was part of her ‘lady training.’ Arya would come in and complain about being stuck inside on rainy days. She’d practice her studies by reading me all of the old heroes’ tales. She’d haul Rickon in and make him listen as well, and then complained when he talked. And so I couldn’t have known it at the time but all of this together, it all made this a happy room. I only have good memories of it.” He leaned his head back against the wall. “It doesn’t seem as big now, but this whole place seemed enormous when I was a boy. I expect that’s not surprising to hear. I did spend a lot of time outside. I didn’t learn sword fighting by staying in here all day. We all ran around the courtyard and the fields. But I went to sleep here every night thinking about the day I’d had, then wake up wondering what day I’d get up to have. I can’t imagine life here without being in this room.”

            Gendry nodded. “I can tell how much you love it just by hearing you talk.”

            Jon nodded back, and then a thought tugged in his mind. He turned to Gendry. “I’ve talked a lot. Maybe too much.”

            Gendry frowned. “What? How could you talk too much?”

            Jon winced. “You never had a room, did you?”

            “No. I mean – well, no, I didn’t. But I’m not upset about it. Were you worried about upsetting me?”

            Jon looked at their laced fingers. “We had such different lives. I forget how lucky I was. More than lucky, really. I had it the best.”

            Gendry shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not bitter about that, Jon. Would I have been when I was younger? Yeah, probably. I’d have swapped you my cot in Flea Bottom for your bed here if the gods had offered it to me. But there’s just no point being frustrated about it now. I don’t have the energy.”

            “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to hear me prattle about my room, though.”

            “You’re not prattling. And even if I did have the energy to be frustrated, I wouldn’t be. There were people who had it even worse than me in Flea Bottom, who had no roof at all over their heads, or any food. I can’t compare any of our lives. This was just yours. And this was your room.”

            Jon gently moved his fingers in Gendry’s. “You have a pure heart, do you know that?”

            Gendry smiled and squeezed back on Jon’s fingers. “Well, I guess you keep me around.”

***

            “Did you eat every meal in here?” Gendry asked as he held Jon fast in his lap in the great hall.

            Jon breathed in against Gendry’s neck. “Most of them. Father usually insisted on tradition but sometimes in summer we had lunch outside.”

            “On the ground?”

            “Yes. He’d spread a blanket out and we’d all sit around it and only throw food at each other when we thought he wasn’t looking. Now that I think of it, he must have known we did it. How could he not have? But he let us be children. I didn’t appreciate it at the time.”

            Gendry leaned his forehead into Jon’s hair. “You do now. He’d be happy. He’d be proud, obviously. I’m sure everyone’s already told you that. I know I have. But he’d be happy too. I hope you believe me on that.”

            Jon nodded against him. “I do.” He leaned his head back and kissed Gendry’s jawline, then rested his cheek on his shoulder. “I don’t know if he can see or hear me. But I spoke to him a quite a lot at the Wall and at Dragonstone. Especially after I met you. I asked him to understand what I was feeling for you. Or try not to judge if he couldn’t understand. I told him the best thing in the world had happened to me and that holding you in my heart is what got me through the worst of everything. That of all my achievements, keeping you safe is one of my proudest.”

            He felt Gendry swallow and turned his face up to him. Gendry darted a glance at him and shook his head quickly. “I’m fine,” he said quietly. “I just. Like I said. I’m used to no one giving me the time of day, never mind being kind to me. We’ve been with each other awhile but I’m still not used to it. The words that I want to say back to you…they don’t always come to me. I’m sorry.”

            “There’s nothing t-”

            “I know. I just hope you know I’m trying.”

            “You don’t have to-”

            “Jon! There’s a reason I knocked your head out there.” Gendry sniffed and quickly threw a fingertip on his face and off again. A small bit of wet shone on it. “I’m trying because I want to. You said you’re going to rebuild the North because you want to, yeah? Well I’m trying to put the words together because I want to. So let me try.” He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat. “Let me try. Well now I’ve gone and lost them all because you made me cry. Here. Get off me. No, not _really_ ,” as Jon started to pull away. “Stay. No shame in crying. No one ever taught me that. I had to figure that out by myself. I cried a lot, you know. When we were first together at Dragonstone. And at first it was because no one was ever kinder to me than you. I’d get out of bed after you fell asleep at night and go cry in the map room so no one would hear me. I think it’s something like what Arya did just now. She had to show everyone how strong she was or else she worried they’d pierce her right through with their own eyes. If that makes sense. Because sometimes people seeing you, seeing what you’re feeling, is scarier than them coming at you with a sword. And you saw me. And no one had ever seen me before. So that’s why I cried. It was just shock. But then it was relief, and then gratefulness, and then, well, yes, it was love, though I did a poor example getting those words out soon enough. Shh. I’m not done. All the things I’d come to peace with that I’d never have, they happened to me. And it wasn’t just that they happened to me. It was because you made them happen. I realized that anyone could have been kind to me, but it was only you who asked to see my thoughts and mind and heart and kept asking for them and then I gave them to you and you treasured them. There, that’s a nice bit of poetry for you. Do you like it? Yes, I’m done. For now.”

            Jon leaned away and took Gendry’s face in his hands, the shiny wet of the tears getting between his fingers. “I like it.” He cradled Gendry’s face as Gendry laughed softly and blinked his eyelashes, still damp. Gendry spilling this raw blood of emotion only beat the feeling of _I love you_ faster and stronger in Jon’s being. He didn’t think he’d ever take a breath without that feeling existing during every heartbeat and every space in between. “I think you used up all the poetry. I don’t have any,” he whispered as he traced Gendry’s cheekbones with his thumbs. “I only have ‘I love you.’”

            “That’s all I want.” Gendry made a soft noise in his throat and looked upwards, one more tear tracking down his cheek. “Gods. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He looked back down into Jon’s eyes. “I love you. With all those words and all the rest I’ll ever say.”

***

            “We should do this outside.”

            “What?”

            “Outside…let’s…do this outside. Tomorrow.” Gendry pressed his face into the back of Jon’s neck, both of their chests still heaving. Jon held the bars of his bedframe, leaning his forehead against the coolness of them before turning his head slightly and laughing raggedly.

            “Outside.”

            “Yeah.” Gendry kept his hands around Jon’s waist, not moving away. “You said earlier,” he breathed, “about having lunch outside. I mean, we should do that too. We should do all of it. Outside. Before everyone is back. We might not have the chance again. Unless Sansa is in a gift-giving mood.” He kissed the nape of Jon’s neck.

            Jon smiled into the bars. “Gods.”

            “Is that a yes?

            Jon gripped the bars and pulled gently forward, separating their bodies. They each gasped softly before Jon eased himself down and laid on his side. Gendry settled in next to him. “It’s alright if it’s a ‘no.’ I mean, this bed might be new, but gods did it do the job for us tonight. You’re all red. Are you blushing?”

            Jon put the back of his hand to his own cheek and grinned. “Probably.”

            “It’s also alright if you never stop doing that.”

            “Then never stop making me.”

            “A deal.” Gendry leaned on one elbow and stroked a finger down the center of Jon’s chest. “Really,” he said quietly. “What do you think?”

            Jon smiled, then grinned, then put a hand over his eyes before dropping it and facing Gendry. “Put a blanket on the grass, you mean? It’ll be damp. We’ll probably get dirty, even with the blanket.”

            Gendry stopped his tracing and bumped Jon’s chin with his own. “That,” he said, “is why I think it would be fun.”

***

            “May I do it? It was my idea, after all.” Gendry didn’t wait for Jon to answer before he shook the blanket. It billowed for a moment before he laid it on the ground and positioned it. Blades of grass immediately bent over the edges. Gendry looked at it with squinted eyes for a moment. “Hmm. Maybe-”

            “Let’s keep it.” Jon put the basket down on one corner and unfastened his cloak, which he bundled and threw on a corner. “Everything feels fresh. It feels good.”

            They’d woken in the morning to rain slamming on the roof and against the windows. After dressing and feeding the horses, they’d lingered putting the picnic basket together, dallying in selecting which spring fruits and cuts of meat, both poorly hiding their disappointment at the thunderous downpour. Gendry had finally sighed and leaned back against a counter in the kitchen. “It’s alright,” he’d said simply, though Jon heard dejection behind the words. Even Ghost seemed glum, staring at nothing as Jon scratched his ears.

            Jon had shaken his head. “We have time before everyone’s back. Sansa said midday, and we’ll get a raven first. It’s still early.” And within moments the rain had slowed to a trickle and the wind had no whistle in it and the sun lightened a patch of the sky. Gendry had burst out laughing, hands on his thighs.

            “Did you see what happened there?”

            Jon had shrugged but he was smiling at the view from the window, only a thin mist wavering gently past. “The weather changed, to put it obviously.”

            “It listened to you. Your home listened to you. I’m getting sentimental, I know.” But Gendry was still laughing. “You said it, and it happened. You should try that more often.”

            “Maybe you have to be around for it to work.”

            “Flattery.”

            They’d waited a few more moments, hearing nothing but the eaves still dripping, then grabbed the basket and hiked up a hill. They didn’t spend much time surveying the area for a place to lay the blanket. “Here,” Jon said when they’d reached a flat plain with the castle still in sight but the fields stretching in all other directions.

            They sat cross-legged on the blanket and opened the basket. They ate with their hands, not having bothered with silverware. Gendry grabbed Jon’s hand before Jon could put his thumb in his mouth to lick a bit of juice that had burst from a strawberry. He put his mouth around Jon’s thumb and licked the juice as Jon leaned his head back with a grin and made no move to yank his hand away. Gendry turned the motion into a kiss on Jon’s fingers, then up his wrist, then up his arm before Jon shook him off, smile still spread across his face. He took a slice of apple and held it to Gendry’s lips. Gendry kept his eyes on Jon as he took the slice in his mouth. “I’ve really got it made,” he said after he’d swallowed. He laid back on his elbows. “The King himself feeds me by hand. Do you hear that?” he shouted to the fields, turning his head in every direction. Jon reached out to him reflexively and Gendry gently smacked his hand. “I’ve got it made!” he yelled, then leaned all the way back on the blanket, arms behind his head. He smiled lazily at Jon. “This is it. This is really it.” Then he pushed himself up again and grabbed Jon’s face in his palms, pulling Jon down on top of him. They hit the blanket with a soft _thud_ and Gendry wrapped both arms tightly around Jon. Jon brushed a stray strand of hair off Gendry’s forehead, then leaned and kissed it, Gendry’s breath warm on his throat.

            “I decided something last night. But I only want to do it if you’re alright with it.” Jon traced his fingertip across Gendry’s cheekbone, then moved it to his lips. “When I call all the banners here tomorrow, I want you to be there.”

            “Of course I’ll be there.”

            “I want to tell them we’re lovers and that you’re living here now. With me.”

            Gendry opened his mouth beneath Jon’s finger. Jon pressed it against his lips again. “Hear me out. I don’t want to do this only because everyone will figure it out anyway, and that they should hear it from me first. Although that’s a reason I could use if I wanted, obviously. But the real reason I want to do it is because I’m proud of us. Not just you specifically, although obviously that’s true too. But I mean _us_. And it’s not even because we’ve come so far, because we made it, or weathered all the storms, or some phrase like that that you’d see written in a book. It has nothing to do with formalities. It’s this want I have. This need. And it comes from this moment. Every moment with you. From all of them. I know it was hard for me at first, when I told Bran. No, no talking yet, listen. But the more time that passed, the more the shock of it felt good. It unchained me from something that held me against a wall. This wall in my mind, this wall of shock, every time I told someone about us. You know I haven’t told many people. But I’m done leaning against that wall. I’m so proud of us. They say not to feel too much pride. I don’t know who ‘they’ are but I’m not listening to them. This is me talking, Gendry. Not as a King. It’s me. If you agree that it’s the right thing to do, then I’m telling everyone. And anyone who ever meets me is free to ask me for the truth.” He took his finger from Gendry’s lips and breathed in. “That’s all.”

            “That’s _all_ , he says.” Gendry’s voice had a note of humor in it but his eyes were completely still, locked on Jon’s. Jon felt his heartbeat pick up as Gendry said, “Tell them all of this. Say it by my side.”

            Jon tried for _Thank you_. His voice cracked on _thank_ and all he managed was “You.”

            Gendry nodded, eyes still holding Jon’s without wavering. “Maybe I have a pure heart. But you should look at your own sometime. Now, preferably. You just put the sun to shame. All that fire you just had. Giving it to me for warmth.”

            Jon breathed out a laugh. “You’re getting the hang of this poetry business.”

            “I don’t even have to try anymore,” Gendry whispered, threading his fingers through Jon’s hair gently and pulling their faces together.

            They only kissed for a few moments before Gendry pushed Jon off of him. “We’ll get to that. There’s something I need to do first. You’ll laugh at me maybe.” He angled upwards and started unlacing his boots. “But it’s something I’ve never done before. Well, I did it on the beach once at Dragonstone. But that was different. That was sand, and that was by myself. This is at home with you.”

            Jon pulled his knees up. “Why do I think you’ll take off my boots for me if I don’t take them off first?”

            “Do it quickly. I’m ready.” Gendry stepped off the blanket and breathed in sharply as his bare feet sank slightly into the muddy ground. “No, no, it’s just the cold,” he said when Jon hesitated over his own boots. “I’ll get used to it. I won’t even feel it in a moment.”

            Jon loosened his laces and kicked his boots off. He’d hardly set them aside when Gendry started running, taking the longest strides possible. Jon groaned but his stomach fluttered in joy as he hoisted himself up and jogged after Gendry’s quickly receding back. His feet slapped the wet grass down and the rain water had splashed up his shins within seconds but despite a small shiver, he took longer and longer strides. Gendry threw him a look over his shoulder, made a scrunched-up face at him, and started half running, half jumping through the field, letting Jon catch up with him. He was in mid leap when Jon caught him around the waist and they nearly tripped, both hollering as they slid through a patch of mud, arms askew and searching for balance. Jon looked at the smear of water on his palms. He couldn’t figure out how his hands had gotten wet when he hadn’t even touched them to the ground. Gendry saw him looking and turned his own palms over, drops rolling down the lengths of his fingers. “A little magical, isn’t it? Gods, I love this place. I’ve been dying for a good run. Can I do this even when everyone’s back? Will they see me?”

            “Probably. But you shouldn’t let that stop you.” Jon held his hand up, palm facing Gendry. Gendry pressed his own palm against it and they held still for a moment. The cold water felt so good. Gendry’s skin against his own felt so good. Jon turned their pressed palms into held hands and they ambled back towards the picnic. The grass felt ticklish on his feet and the _squelch_ noise of his toes sinking into the muddy ground made his head light. He felt a buzz alight inside him, sparking through all the blood in his veins. He wondered if Gendry felt the same, and didn’t have to wonder for long. They were hardly at the blanket before Gendry had him on his back, wet palms sliding against his cheeks.

            Jon knew none of this had never happened before, but the feeling that he was remembering something took root in his mind. Had he dreamed about this one night? He couldn’t remember, and being outside today had been Gendry’s idea. Instead of breaking open the feeling to analyze its parts, he let it settle into him. It almost felt good. It almost felt like a sign that nothing better than these moments could be happening. That they were so strong, they somehow flashed him back to a life where he’d been anticipating them. That that meant every step they’d taken to get here and every cold drop of water here was precious.

As they kissed, he relished the familiar taste of Gendry’s mouth on his tongue and the unfamiliar sensation of the dew on both their skin made his pulse pound faster. He felt drops rolling underneath his shirt sleeves and down his arms as Gendry’s lips moved onto Jon’s cheek and then into his neck. He combed his hands through Gendry’s damp hair. “Is this what you meant,” he managed between breaths, “when you said we should be outside?”

            Gendry lifted himself up slightly and a drop fell from his nose and onto Jon’s forehead. He laughed breathlessly as Jon scrunched his face up and thumbed the drop off. Gendry immediately bumped his nose to the spot Jon had just touched and Jon snorted and tried to push him off. Gendry grabbed Jon’s hands and pinned them above his head. They landed off the blanket and Gendry seemed to breathe harder as he laced his fingers tighter with Jon’s on the soft ground. “I feel…” He moved their clasped hands around, pushing the grass into the mud. “Mm. That thrill. That’s what I wanted. Do you like it?”

            Jon closed his eyes and smiled as Gendry nosed his forehead again. “It’s alright.”

            Gendry released their hands and pulled back. “You don’t like it.”

            “Do you take suggestions?”

            “I take a lot of things.”

            “Then take my clothes off.”

            Gendry’s face had hardly broken into a grin with all his teeth before his hands were at Jon’s waist, bunching the bottom of his shirt up as Jon raised his arms. Gendry threw it onto the blanket behind him and was halfway to Jon’s cheek with his mouth before he sat up again. “All them off. Before we do anything. The wait will make it more exciting. Yeah?”

Jon sighed at him exaggeratedly but started unlacing Gendry’s shirt with a fervor that surprised even him. He was inching off the blanket with every move but the jolt of the cold only seemed to make his hands work faster. By the time they were both shirtless and were kicking off their pants, the blanket was barely touching them. Gendry threw a glance at it. “We can fix-”

            “No.”

            “Alright.” Gendry gently put one hand behind Jon’s back and the other on his chest, laying him back on the ground. In a second, his whole back was soaked and the raw air that settled on his body made Jon felt like he’d shiver at any moment. But he never did. Gendry had laid the length of his own body on Jon’s and was kissing down his collarbones and into the hollow of his throat. The warmth of his mouth felt new after being engulfed in cold and Jon’s thoughts blurred until he couldn’t think at all. He barely had time to notice the strands of Gendry’s hair that had matted together before his eyes shut tightly in pleasure as Gendry licked a line down his chest. He took one of Jon’s nipples in his mouth and sucked it gently before tonguing it in a circle. Jon unthinkingly grasped the back of Gendry’s head, wetting nearly all his hair with his water-slick hand. If Gendry noticed, he gave no sign as he moved down Jon’s body, one finger still thumbing his nipple as he kissed a path to his hips. Jon dug one heel into the mud as his breath hitched again, then again. Gendry touched his mouth to the skin just above one of Jon’s hipbones and lingered his mouth there. Before he could move lower, Jon sat up and moved Gendry in his arms until he could lay him back on the grass as gently as Jon had.

            There was a small smudge of mud on Gendry’s cheek and Jon found he didn’t want to wipe it away. He could only think of it as beautiful as he buried his face in Gendry’s neck and kissed deeply but quickly down it and into the skin of his shoulder. Gendry hummed and sighed and hummed again as he grasped at Jon’s shoulder blades. Jon’s knees were pushed into the grass now. He didn’t have to look at them to know how muddy they’d be. He only had to raise his eyes briefly from Gendry to see that he’d already tracked mud onto the edges of Gendry’s chest. Gendry glanced where Jon was looking and laughed. He craned his head back to the sky and said, “We’re moving too fast for the sun to dry us.”

            Jon kissed Gendry’s cheek without the mud splotch. “Does that make you want to go faster?”

            “Ask me next time before you read my mind.”

            Jon pressed his forehead to Gendry’s chest and laughed silently. He turned on his side and Gendry followed. There was no going back from the mud now. They were wet nearly head to toe and sinking slighting into the ground and the rain could have started pouring again and he wouldn’t have cared. He moved one palm, finger splayed, down Gendry’s chest. Gendry leaned their foreheads together and moved one hand to Jon’s shoulder blade, fingers tightening around it just as Jon’s fingers reached the tip of his cock. Gendry’s breath sounded like a gasp and he rolled his neck back as Jon gently caressed the head with one fingertip before tracing the length with the pad of his thumb. Gendry moved his head into Jon’s neck and his heaving breath was the warmest spot on Jon’s body. Jon relished the feeling as he wrapped his fingers around Gendry’s cock and pumped it once, gently. Gendry squeezed and released and squeezed Jon’s shoulder blade as Jon pumped it slightly faster. He built up his speed slowly, then more quickly, the spot in his neck burning up from Gendry’s gasping breaths. Gendry pushed his cheek back against Jon’s and held his shoulder blade as though he’d fall if he let go. Jon knew Gendry’s body well enough to tell when he was close, and he slowed down, waiting for the usual, _You tease_ from Gendry. But Gendry’s mouth was pressed too hard against Jon’s neck and Jon realized that all the usual rules they played by were gone out here. He let his hand linger, drawing out the moments. Gendry’s eyes were shut tight in bliss but he moved his other arm under Jon’s head and then angled their faces together for a kiss. His short breaths made an actual kiss difficult but they kept their mouths close together as Gendry’s hips started to push up in time with Jon’s touches. Jon loved when that happened, loved the moments right before the ecstasy, loved knowing he was the one giving them to the love of his life. He lost himself in the feeling of Gendry’s hips bucking next to him, the tight grasping of his shoulder blade as Gendry hummed, then keened as he bucked once more and came.

            Jon knew there would be fingernail marks deep in his back as Gendry slowly released his shoulder but kept his face close to Jon’s, the edges of their foreheads touching. Gendry’s smile grew with each shaky breath until his strength returned and he leaned up on his elbow and took Jon’s face in his hands. Their kisses were short at first, Gendry still breathless, until his breathing calmed and he kissed Jon more languidly, tongues touching and playing against each other. Jon ran his hands down Gendry’s arms and halted. He broke the kiss softly and looked at his hand. It was covered with small wet blades of grass zig zagging across his palm. He laughed and turned his hand so Gendry could see. Gendry sat up and reached an arm behind his back. When he put it in front of him again, the mud was so thick that the grass didn’t fall off. He bit his lip as he grinned.

            “Still what you had in mind?” Jon leaned up and turned his own side to Gendry, who touched the grass, dew, and mud smeared there but didn’t try to brush any of it away.

            Gendry moved his hand from Jon’s arm to his back. When he took it away, there was only mud and rainwater dribbling down his hand. “No grass. Well this really won’t do. You have to get as dirty as me. I think you need to lie on your back again. What do you think?”

            “Maybe you should push me down and we’ll find out.”

            “Is that an order, your Grace?”

            “No. It’s a strong suggestion from your lover.”

            Gendry raised his eyebrows, head tilted as he put his fingers on Jon’s shoulders and gently eased him backwards. “Maybe I’ll address you like that in front of the banners. ‘This is not _your Grace_ , everyone. This is my lover.’”

            Jon pulled Gendry fully on top of him. “Do it,” he whispered.

            Gendry smiled, his mouth open and his tongue in his cheek. “One condition.”

            “Name it.”

            He brought his lips to Jon’s ear. “Take me,” he breathed.

            Jon closed his eyes and opened his own mouth, the excitement of anticipation coursing through his blood. Gendry moved his head back over Jon’s face and touched his tongue to Jon’s teeth. Jon nipped at it but Gendry was already kissing down Jon’s body. Jon sighed in pleasure as he sank back down into the carpet of the earth, letting it soak him again and inhaling the fresh strong smell. Gendry pressed firm but tender kisses all over his chest and waist, Jon never knowing which spot on his body would receive the next kiss. He forgot about the marks on his own back as he reflexively dug his own nails into Gendry’s back as Gendry ran his tongue up and down the length of his cock. He hips rose up as he cried out and the small part of his mind not engulfed by pleasure told him that the first blades of grass were probably on his skin now. Gendry licked a line from the bottom to the top of Jon’s cock and then took it in his mouth. Ecstasy jolted Jon as much as the cold ground and his heart and pulse kicked a sweet beat. He had completely forgotten about Gendry’s whisper of _Take me_ until Gendry got on his knees and straddled Jon. He looked in Jon’s eyes with a smile but a rawness of emotion lay behind his eyes. It was love, clear as the water. He only closed his eyes when he took Jon’s cock in his hand and carefully lowered himself on it, breath shaking and head tilted back. Jon leaned his own head back and water gently splashed his cheeks as he groaned, every inch of him throbbing and wanting no other feeling in the world.

Gendry traced the tips of his damp fingers along Jon’s chest before splaying them and moving his body up and back down. Jon shuddered and grabbed for Gendry’s waist. He ran the pads of his thumbs around his hipbones and Gendry took in a ragged breath as he pushed him up and down slightly faster. His back was curved at a beautiful angle and Jon ran his hands up it. Gendry’s smooth skin with pieces of grass and mud spots and dripping dew was unlike anything he’d ever known and he felt addicted. He pressed his palms harder into Gendry’s back before Gendry shook them off. Jon opened his eyes in hazy confusion as Gendry breathed, “Over, on my back.” Jon let the haze clear long enough for him to delicately shift their positions, keep Gendry inside him as much as he could. He had to pull out slightly as Gendry drew his knees up but Gendry immediately guided him back in and pulled Jon on top of him hard enough for their ribs to knock together. Jon hardly felt the pain as he lay still for a moment, holding on to the ecstatic feeling of being tight inside Gendry. “Ready?” he managed and Gendry nodded quickly.

“Go hard,” he said between uneven breaths, tracing Jon’s cheekbone before grabbing his back with one hand and lacing the other through Jon’s hair, pulling his head to his shoulder. Jon didn’t think he could be any more aroused but Gendry’s words made him almost cry out with desire. His knees dug into the ground as he moved in and out of Gendry gently for one stroke, then harder for the second. Gendry pushed his toes into the mud and hissed his breath through a look of satisfaction. He kept Jon’s face pulled close to his own as Jon increased the speed and force of each thrust. He knew he was at such a close brink of excitement that he could have come in mere moments but he held out to keep touching the spot of pleasure inside Gendry. They held the rhythm for a few moments until Gendry managed, “ _Faster_.” He wrapped his legs around Jon’s and held fast to him as Jon kicked up mud and dirt with the heels of his feet as he thrust his hips as fast as he could. His mind flit an image at him at how the two of them would look from the sky, two bodies acting out their greatest joy, two spirts searching for a higher plane of being on the low ground. It was enough to peak his rapture and he stopped holding out. Gendry cried out and shuddered in ecstasy as Jon bucked in and out for one final stroke. He half gasped, half moaned as he came harder and longer than he could remember, his mind blanking out and his blood taking its time rushing back to his head.

Gendry was still holding Jon’s face to his own, their cheeks together, stubble feeling rough but glorious. He didn’t move but for his heaving breaths, still keeping Jon close and inside him. Jon closed his eyes and rubbed their cheeks together, knowing they’d have to separate but not ready to let the afterglow fade before he could savor every moment, paint each one inside his memory, inside the story of the two of them.

Gendry had let his grasp of Jon’s back slacken and he was tracing slow circles on it. Jon felt him move a piece of grass around his skin. He wasn’t sure how much of the damp on his back was rainwater, mud, or sweat. He didn’t really care. He could have fallen asleep on Gendry’s shoulder and he lazily nestled his head into Gendry’s neck. Gendry turned his head to him and kissed his forehead, letting his lips linger against it. As soon as he moved to kiss it again, a _caw_ scraped through the silence and they both jerked upwards.

A raven with a small scroll bound to one claw was tilting its head at them where it sat on the crumpled picnic blanket. Jon sighed into Gendry’s neck and only buried his face deeper. Gendry chuckled. “One hour. She did warn us.”

“I didn’t know we’d been out here so long.” Jon angled himself up and reluctantly separated from Gendry, who sat up and immediately reached for Jon’s shoulder.

“How dirty did we get? Let me see.” He looked Jon’s body up and down with a hint of mischief in his gaze. “Oh, I did well for you. Very well.”

Jon turns his arms over and back again. They were streaked up and down with muddy water, some muddier patches clinging to him and other trickling down and plopping off his elbows as soon as he moved them. He pulled his legs up. His knees and the soles of his feet were caked with dirt, grass sticking out at skewed angles. He was about to touch his face when Gendry grabbed his wrist. “Don’t. Not yet. It’ll take less than a minute to wash it later. I want to look. I can’t ever forget this, not ever.” He peered at Jon’s face. “Dirt across your forehead. There’s a little half blade of grass in your throat hollow. Gods how I could keep you here all day and just look at you.”

Jon smiled and looked at him from under his lashes. Gendry rolled his eyes skywards and made a frustrated noise. “Gods help me when you do that. Now I want you again. And again. We have to do this another time. Soon. Presents. When’s your name day? When’s mine? Sansa has it made with gifts, she never has to think about what to give us again.”

Jon laughed silently. Gendry pushed him softly in the chest. “What about me? How dirty did you make me?”

Jon walked on his knees around to Gendry’s back. “Oh gods. It looks like you actually live in the ground.” Gendry’s back had lines and lines of dirt striping it, mud dripping on the skin in between them. It was streaming down a little more every second but it’d take a good scrubbing of his back to wipe all the dirt off. He suspected the back of his legs looked much the same as the front, pasted with grass. Jon gingerly touched his hair. Every strand was damp, a lot of them soaked. Gendry’s looked much the same. Jon gently moved a lock of Gendry’s hair away from his eye and a drop raced down his cheek and splashed to the ground in hardly a second. They laughed, almost giggling like boys. Gendry looked at the raven and scrunched his mouth to one side.

“Alright. Wait. No. One more moment. Just one.” He laid on his side and patted the ground next to him. Jon laid himself down and Gendry had Jon in his arms again in an instant. “I’m not sure how to put this into words yet,” he whispered in Jon’s ear. “I think my poetry flew out of my head somewhere back there.”

“Maybe you don’t need to say anything. Were you happy?”

“Gods. Jon. It’s not that I’ve never been happier with you. We could do this on the great hall table and I’d still be soaring. But nature is…well it’s not something I ever thought about as something I could really experience for myself or with anyone else. Not in any way that really felt important to me. I never saw any real nature until I left Flea Bottom and it wasn’t fun being on the road, no matter how many trees, clearings, blue sky, anything. The beach was the first place that ever felt nice but it wasn’t home and it didn’t…it didn’t love me back like this place does. That sounds silly.”

“No. Don’t say that.”

“Alright. Then I feel like this air of love around your home got into me. Before we even got here from the inn, maybe. I feel like I breath it every second. I can’t breathe without feeling it. And I want it that way. Jon, I’m _home_. All this,” he gestured to his body, “all this was me trying to give myself to your home. To show it how much I love it that I wanted to do something sacred with you here. I don’t know if-”

“It makes perfect sense.” Jon ran the backs of his fingers down Gendry’s cheek. “It’s a connection.”

“Yes. That’s it. I’ve had so few. Sounds like self-pity, a little. No, yeah, it does, don’t argue. But there was just…something that was so still inside me, this stillness that had been there so long. And now it’s free and it’s flowing all through me and I could cry for days. It’s you. It’s you taking me home. You broke a, I don’t know, a _dam_ in me when you said you loved me. And the rush from it, it’s never going to stop. I hope you’re ready for that. No, I don’t have to hope. I already know you are. Connection, yeah? You and me. I love you. I love you.”

“I love you.” Jon brought Gendry’s fingers to his lips and kissed them, then held them to his cheek. “I would have been alright if you didn’t love it here. If you’d said you didn’t like it and wanted to live somewhere else, I wouldn’t have wanted to be with you any less.”

Gendry gripped Jon’s fingers. “I know.”

            Jon watched a cloud drift over a clear patch of sky over Gendry’s shoulder, then looked back to Gendry’s face. Gendry caught his eye and gave him a smile full of love. That was all it took for the feeling of familiarity he’d had earlier to finally crystalize. None of this day had happened before. The moments had seemed familiar because he’d spent what felt like an eternity, his whole life, waiting for them to happen. And now he’d stopped waiting for them and started living them.

He almost lost his breath. “I think I’ll actually be the one crying.” The tears were blurring his view of Gendry’s face and he batted his eyes quickly to get them out of the way.

“Jon?” Gendry touched his cheek.

“I’m fine.” He laughed softly. “No, I’m even better than that. Something’s happening to me. I think it might be the most important thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m finally choosing to be who I am. So many things were put into my head when I was so young. ‘You’re a bastard, Jon, but you have to be brave and strong because it makes people forget that half of you isn’t important.’ Father never put it that way of course, but I heard it so much from others. People here, at the Wall, everywhere. ‘You’re a King now, you have to be brave and strong.’ But now I’m brave and strong in a way I choose to be. And that’s by showing the world I’m in love with you. It’s taken me time to come to this. You know how I was in the Godswood yesterday. Scared for a moment, of being too open. But since that moment, I’ve been nothing but open, and tomorrow, in front of everyone around for miles, I’ll be the same. That openness, that freedom, I can’t get it out of my blood now. It’s exhilarating. Loving you in front of other people…and in front of all the gods and the whole earth too, after our afternoon here…I feel like. I don’t know. Like I’ve grown new roots. Roots that everyone can see. And I want them to grow and keep growing and never stop. I will never let anyone cut them away. I’m finally home at Winterfell, at the front door, but I found my way to my soul too. Because I’m choosing to be myself. If I’m brave and strong, it’s because I made the choice. I chose to have freedom. I choose it all because I’m in love and you brought me home”

“Oh gods.” Gendry had a finger in the corner of one eye, a bead of tear running down to the tip. “Well the poetry game is done, I can’t top that. ‘Found my way to my soul.’” He gave a half-sob, still touching the tear on his face. “Jon. I don’t feel like I’m enough for all this.”

“You are.”

“I believe you. I do. It’s just that I was always that bastard kid from Flea Bottom. I didn’t have parents. I didn’t have friends. The last thing I thought I’d ever have was love and the last thing I thought I’d ever do was help someone feel safe enough to be everything you are. It never would have occurred to me. But I should know better, right? You teach me that every day. To know better than to knock my own head. And I didn’t think I could be happier than just being content. But I’m about to fall apart from happiness. It’s relief, even. Relief to know that I’m giving you everything I wanted to give you. Even if I didn’t know I wanted to give it to you. I only found out now because you told me. Because you felt safe. Because of me?”

“Because of you.”

“I still don’t feel enough. But I’ll try. And then I’ll stop trying because I’ll finally believe it.” He pushed his forehead to Jon’s. “I feel cracked open. In a good way. We’ve never talked like this.”

“I know. But you’re not uncomfortable, I hope?”

“Gods no. The opposite. I feel like I know you even better now. I didn’t think that was possible, given how much we talk. But this is the core of you, isn’t it, that I’m listening to? You’re talking so softly but I still feel like the ground would be shaking if it could understand you. The ground we’re lying on right now, yeah, but the ground _we’re_ on. _Our_ ground, the one only the two of us live on. And it shook us closer together just now.”

            “I don’t want to leave that ground.” Jon spread his fingers out on Gendry’s face, touching his cheekbone, jaw, lips. “Do you want to stay?”

            “As long as you want me.”

            “Get comfortable, then.”

            Gendry laughed. “I love you.”

            “I love you, Gendry.”

Gendry inhaled and closed his eyes and grinned before he batted Jon’s hand from his face and leaned to kiss him. He pulled back for a moment. “Jon. That pure heart business you were on about with me. I should embrace that. I didn’t really take it seriously yesterday, I know. But it feels good to think that about myself. I’m going to believe it from now on. It’s true, isn’t it?”

“I never lie to you.”

“I know. So I have a pure heart. And I’m never leaving here. Connected.” He put his fingers on Jon’s lips. “Roots intertwined.”

Jon kissed Gendry’s fingertips and then Jon was on his back again, Gendry pressing their bodies together and running his hands over Jon’s shoulders. They kissed so long that the raven flew away and they had to race back to the castle in their clothes without toweling off, not knowing how much of an hour had passed. Sansa took Jon aside later and apologized about the morning. “Oh, because of the rain?” Jon asked. “It didn’t stop us. We went outside anyway.”

“You took a walk on the grass?”

“We did walk on the grass. We took a journey, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my Jondry co-captain and old so and so, TerribleAndRed. x


End file.
